Rice Bucket
by Reijeux
Summary: HongIce. A frustrated England leaves Hong Kong with a mini-Hong Kong. Hong Kong then proceeds to take mini-Hong Kong over to Iceland's.


**Title:** Rice Bucket  
**Pairing:** HongIce KIND OF, it's leaning more towards the friendship area BUT...  
**Summary:** A frustrated England leaves Hong Kong with a mini-Hong Kong. Hong Kong then proceeds to take mini-Hong Kong over to Iceland's.  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own.  
**Warnings:** A bittersweet ending, but there's JUST A BIT OF fluff, so it won't be too bad on your heart.  
**Note**: I'm sorry if the little bits of Cantonese you find in this fic are inaccurate. I made sure I didn't use it often to avoid mistakes.

Also, I apologize for any awkwardly phrased sentences aalskdjasda

* * *

Out of all the things he could have had on his list of things to do today, helping take care of his fellow country's (They were acquaintances at least... Friends, maybe?)... _younger_ self was something he never would have purposefully put on that list.

Unfortunately, having Hong Kong in his life, nothing could ever be as normal as Iceland wished it to be.

It was that morning that Iceland woke up to the sound of his doorbell being rung.

The sound went off once; he turned over in bed, ignoring it.

After a a short moment, the doorbell went off again.

He ignored it.

Once more.

Iceland sat up, upset he actually needed to get out of bed at this point and tell whoever had come to visit to buzz off and never interrupt his sleeping in ever again.

As he made his way towards the front door, a flood of the incredibly annoying dings echoed throughout the house. He thrust open the door, ready to give the visiter a good piece of his mind, only to see Hong Kong standing before him with one hand in his pocket and the other one clutching a plastic bag.

The doorbell was still going off repeatedly.

Glancing down at his side, Iceland couldn't stop himself from gaping at the little boy dressed in a cinnamon colored hoodie and jeans. Said little boy stopped abusing the doorbell and looked back at him, his face looking much too obviously familiar.

"Hong Kong."

"Yo."

"...Who's this?"

"Oh, don't worry about him. He's cool. He's just me."

Glancing over at Hong Kong before looking back at the little one, Iceland could only mutter, "I see that."

So here they all were, sitting in Iceland's living room. The little Hong Kong had plopped himself on the floor by the table in front of the couch, busying himself with his newly bought coloring book and crayons- a few of the many items from the plastic bag that the actual Hong Kong had been holding.

A glass of Coke and a glass of milk with a straw sat on coasters on the same table, far enough for the child not to knock them over. Another glass of Coke was being gripped tight by the Icelandic nation, who was trying to take everything that he was being told in.

Hong Kong sat a little ways from him on the couch, one leg crossed over the other as he nonchalantly told his story, involving a friendly lunch between him and his ex-caretaker the day before.

"So England was like, 'You just don't understand what it was like to raise someone like you blaaarrghh,' and like, I know I was a pretty bad kid with all the pranks I did and stuff, but it wasn't like I was a total delinquent. I knew my manners, I understood when I needed to be polite and all, I just never showed that to him." Hong Kong reached over and picked up his Coke, taking a sip. "When I told him that, he said he'd prove to me how much trouble I was, said his magic, and out popped this thing." He gestured at little Hong Kong.

Iceland cleared his throat to stop himself from snorting at the comment.

"But the kid really hasn't been too much trouble. I think most of that's because he's still in 'Pre-England mode', with a knack for technology, minus the ponytail."

They watched the child pick up his glass of milk, slurping it down through the straw until it was all gone. The boy looked into his glass before leaning over and pulling on Hong Kong's pantsleg, saying something in what he was pretty sure was Cantonese. Hong Kong responded back, taking the glass and ruffling his hair.

Iceland furrowed his eyebrows slightly, wanting to know what they had said, only to have his answer given to him.

"He said wants more. That cool?"

"Uh... yeah." Hong Kong got up before he could, leaving for the kitchen.

Iceland turned his attention back to little Hong Kong, who had gone back to coloring.

If this really was how Hong Kong was as a child, he was really... well-behaved.

But then again, he still kind of was...

Hong Kong came back into the living room, setting the glass of fresh milk back on it's coaster. The little boy, still coloring, said something, and Hong Kong responded, with something else.

"May I ask something?" Iceland spoke when he was sure they weren't going to say anything else.

"You're asking something right now."

With an eyeroll, Iceland went on, "Why did you bring him here? Especially if he doesn't know English, why not take him back to China's or something?"

"Good question," Hong Kong sat back once more, keeping his eyes on his smaller self, "I didn't want to watch him by myself. And it seemed like it'd be more fun if I watched him with you."

Iceland's breath caught in his throat as he tried to come up with a response that didn't result in sounding like he was being strangled.

Little Hong Kong suddenly said something, not to his older self, but to Iceland, who realized that whatever the child said was a question, and he was supposed to answer it.

Hong Kong suddenly let out a laugh, getting up again and pulling the small boy to his feet, "He wants to use the bathroom."

"O-oh..."

"C'mon, kiddo, it's this way. I mean-" Hong Kong shook his head at himself, switching himself to Cantonese. The two talked the entire way to the bathroom- Iceland could still hear the child's voice even after the door was shut.

o0o0o0o

The boy had fallen asleep curled up on Hong Kong's lap shortly after he decided he was bored with his coloring book.

'Shortly after he decided he was bored with his coloring book' meaning after exploring the house for a few hours, much to Iceland's discontent, and touching everything he found that 'looked cool,' according to Hong Kong's translations of the child's exclamations.

"Can you tell him not to touch everything?"

"I dunno, I think he hit his rebellious stage."

"If he breaks something, I swear, I'll-"

Hong Kong interrupted him, already making his way over to his younger self and picking him up, saying something that Iceland desperately wished he could understand so he knew for sure they weren't talking about him.

Little Hong Kong said something back.

Then Hong Kong.

Then the boy.

Then the older one.

The child, looking just a bit frustrated, covered his ears right before saying, "_Bah lee bah lah_!"

"Hey." Hong Kong furrowed his eyebrows, poking his forehead with a finger, and Iceland could only watch them continue their conversation.

It was when the child let out a frustrated '_Fan tong_!' did Hong Kong finally grow silent. The look on his face told Iceland that the boy _may or may not _have just said a bad word, but since when would Hong Kong care if a kid cursed, much less a kid version of himself?

Little Hong Kong squirmed in his hold, sliding down and hurrying off to another room of the house.

Iceland gave his acquaintance (friend?) a look, right before the dark haired male let out a laugh.

"H-Hong-"

Hong Kong leaned forward a bit, clutching his stomach as he continued laughing. "_F-Fan tong_!"

"What?"

"_Fan tong_!"

"I don't know what that means!" Had he gone crazy? Was it a dirty word? Was it even a word?

Hong Kong coughed a bit, and shaking his head, "I used to call England that a lot, that's all. He'd get so pissy, because he knew I was insulting him." He breathed in, finally calm, "That kid reminded me of that, that's all. It's funny- I _know_ what it means, but I'm not insulted."

"But what does it-"

Before Iceland could finish his sentence, little Hong Kong returned and latched himself to his older self's leg, muttering what sounded like... 'sorry?'

Hong Kong picked him back up, kissing his cheek with a smile.

And once more, Iceland could only watch, less confused with a nice warmth filling his chest.

So there they were now, with the younger Hong Kong sleeping on his older self's lap as said older self rested himself comfortably on the couch. Iceland sat at the other end, watching how content the boy's sleeping face was.

Hong Kong kept his gaze on the boy as well, clearly deep in thought until he opened his mouth to speak, "If he's still here by then, can I come back tomorrow?"

Iceland turned his attention to him, "Well... yeah. ...What do you mean 'if he's still here'?"

"Mm." the other male rested his chin on top of little Hong Kong's head, staring out, "He's a result of England's magic, and all. The little guy isn't gonna be here forever. His time here is limited."

Hearing this struck a painful chord within Iceland. He figured that would be the case, but at the same time, he never thought about it.

Spending the entire day with the boy gave him the idea that he was going to be here for a long time. Forever?

Iceland noticed Hong Kong close his eyes and tighten his hold around the smaller boy.

"I'm honestly gonna be sad to see him go." He said. "He really is a good kid."

Maybe they just didn't hang out too often, but Iceland never once thought Hong Kong had the ability to look so sad.

o0o0o0o

Hong Kong returned the following day with the same plastic bag from before, but without the boy.

"...He's gone?"

"Mm... yeah." Hong Kong walked into the house, sitting himself on the couch. He dug into the plastic bag and pulled out the coloring book. "He told me he liked you a lot, so you should have this."

Turning a slight shade of pink, Iceland took the coloring book, flipping through it.

"I don't see why I should have this, since he was your-" His voice fell the moment he reached the last page, a blank page- or what would have been a blank page if little Hong Kong hadn't drawn on it.

Iceland studied the picture- of course the boy would draw himself holding hands with the two older males, but it was really...

...nice.

"He said, and this is only a rough translation, that you have really pretty white hair and should smile more. Also, you are really cool." Hong Kong recited.

Iceland didn't know if he should laugh or cry.

He did neither.

"But, like, if you don't want to keep it then-"

"No!" Iceland clutched the coloring book close. "I mean... no, it's... it's fine. I'll keep it."

Hong Kong smiled, as if trying to figure what else to say before that smile faded, and he let out a, "If missing that kid was supposed to be payback for everything I did to England, then it worked, _God_."

The lighter haired boy snorted, "Want a Coke to help mend your broken heart?"

"Please."

Iceland turned to get them Cokes, but stopped himself from going anywhere, "By the way... what did that one thing mean? That he called you, that you said you called England a lot?"

Hong Kong let out a soft 'ah,' and smiled just a bit, "Rice bucket."

**End**

Translations:  
Bah lee bah lah - Blah blah blah  
Fan tong - Rice bucket aka idiot, etc

**A/N** I was going to illustrate this fic as well, but we'll see how that will all turn out badlksfaer

Reviews are love?


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